Trading Paint by Shey Stahl

Author:Shey Stahl [Stahl, Shey]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Shey Stahl Productions
Published: 2012-08-05T06:00:00+00:00

18. Turn In – Jameson

Turn In – As a car reaches a corner, this is the moment at which a driver begins to turn the wheel. The timing of the action and the car’s response to it are crucial for setting fast lap times.

“What is this?” I asked examining the documents set in front of me.

I was sitting in a large conference room in downtown Charlotte with my dad, my uncle Randy and Alley going over the sponsorship for our new team, Riley Simplex Racing.

“It’s your prohibited activities.” Melissa Childers, Simplex’s representative stated.

I was silent. They can’t be serious...no sprint cars? I must be reading this wrong.

Melissa continued. “You can’t do thinks like skiing, motorcycles, or...any other form of racing outside of the car we sponsor.”

“I can’t drive sprint cars?”

Marcus Harding, the President of Simplex Springs and Shocks, and Melissa, exchanged a glance.

“It’s the only way for us to protect you and us.” Melissa added. I understood but I wasn’t about to agree to something like that. Sprint cars are where I came from.

I went to stand when my dad glared and cleared his throat. “Can we have a few days to think about it...racing sprint cars is...not something I’m willing to give up.” I gritted moving my leg away from him. I had a feeling his was about to kick me any minute.

Marcus seemed to contemplate what I just said but before I made it to the door, he spoke again. “I think we can work with you on that one.” I turned around to look at him. “You have to understand where we are coming from Jameson.” He paused, his eyes focusing on me alone. “We are offering up a large amount of money here for you to race. If by chance you are injured, well, we don’t get the exposure we are paying for. We expect you to take that into consideration.”

I went to speak but was silenced by my uncle Randy. “I think Jameson would just like the opportunity to still race sprint cars on occasion and I assure you,” he shot me a warning glance. “He will be careful.”

“Careful?” I thought to myself. Was I carful in a sprint car?

Not really.

I signed my life away that morning as a puppet for Simplex and my dad. It felt different from the times with Bowman Oil and Bucky. For one, this was bigger, millions of dollars to be exact and they weren’t just paying for me to run a limited USAC schedule. I’d be running a full season in the Busch Grand National series next year. It was different. I still felt like a puppet but I’d like to think I grew up a little in the last four years and realized that this dream of mine wasn’t possible without playing by their rules to an extent.

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